t of people, and their ingratitude
is equalled by their meanness and greed. Mr. Hills, who is doing the
Armenian relief work here, pays all his own expenses, and he can't get a
truck to take his things to the refugees without paying for it, while he
is often asked the question, "Why can't you leave these things alone?"
Now that Mrs. Wynne has left I am asked the same question about her.
Russia can "break" one very successfully.

The weather has turned cold, and there is tearing wind and snow.

_1 February._--"No," says I to myself, in a supremely virtuous manner,
"I shall not be beaten by this enervating existence here. I'll do
_something_--if it's only sewing a seam."

So out came needles and cotton and mending and hemming, but, would it be
believed, I am afflicted with two "doigts blancs" (festered fingers),
and have to wear bandages, which prevent my doing even the mildest seam.
Oddly enough, this "maladie" is a sort of epidemic here. The fact is,
the dust is full of microbes, and no one is too well nourished.

[Page Heading: SOME "MALADES IMAGINAIRES"]

I am rather amused by those brave strong people who "don't make a fuss
about their health." One hears from them almost daily that their
temperature has gone up to 103 deg.; "but it's nothing," they say
heroically, "or if it is, it's only typhoid, and who cares for a little
typhoid?" Does a head ache, there is "something very queer about it,
but"--pushing back hair from hot brow--"no one is to worry about it. It
will be better to-morrow; or if it really is going to be fever, we must
just try to make the best of it." A sty in the eye is cataract, "but
lots of blind people are very happy;" and a bilious attack is generally
that mysterious, oft-recurring and interesting complaint "camp fever."
Cheer up, no one is to be discouraged if the worst happens! A
thermometer is produced and shaken and applied. The temperature is too
low now; it is probably only typhus, and we mean to be brave and get up.

_3 February._--Last night we played bridge. All the princes and
princesses moistened their thumbs before dealing, and no one is above
using a "crachoir" on the staircase! Oh for one hour of England! In all
my travels I have only found one foreign race which seemed to me to be
well-bred (as I understand it), and that is the native of India. The
very best French people come next; and the Spaniard knows how to bow,
but he clears his throat in an objectionable manner. None of t